


Hogwarts: the RPG

by Serpenscript



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fingering, Frotting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Semi-Public Sex, rabid fans, snogging in broom closets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpenscript/pseuds/Serpenscript
Summary: Escaping a mob of fans, Neville and Harry have a Close Encounter.





	Hogwarts: the RPG

In a way, it had begun with Dudley Dursley.

Petunia and Vernon steadily refused to have anything to do with Harry after the last time he left, but the Dementors had somehow changed him on a fundamental level.

Harry was twenty when he got the first scrawled postcard with an awkwardly veiled attempt to ask how he was without appearing to care. He nearly didn’t write back, but he was curious to discover what having family on speaking terms might be like. It helped, too, that it had been a couple years since he’d had to live with the Dursleys; some of the bitterness faded with time.

After that, postcards went back and forth several times a month over the course of the next couple years, slowly revealing more information. Dudley had got into university; Harry had got into Auror training. Dudley had found a new diet that seemed to work better; Harry had set up a fund for war orphans. Dudley had found a girlfriend; Harry had broken up with Ginny.

To celebrate Harry making full Auror and Dudley finishing uni, they met for the first time since Harry had left Privet Drive for good.

What started as a one-time celebration became a habit of meeting at least once a month to talk and catch up - though by unspoken agreement they avoided talking about anything to do with Privet Drive. "I don’t want to remember who I was back then," Dudley said, and Harry accepted the silent apology.

Or it could have begun when Dudley started a new job at a gamer’s store and heard about a new strategy role-playing game.

"It was hard enough trying to learn the strategies and manoeuvres myself," Harry explained to Dudley over dinner one day. "But now I have to pound it into green, would-be Aurors. I’ve lectured and told examples and drawn diagrams until I’m blue in the face. But they barely listen - they just don’t _care_. Like the best plan is a spontaneous plan - and worse, they think _I’m_ the perfect example of it - after all," he said sarcastically, "I charged in without a plan over and over again, and came out alive and victorious! It doesn’t matter that the people who were with me were hurt or killed."

Dudley forked a piece of broccoli and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment, then swallowed. "You could find a way to make it fun," he suggested. "Make all the strategies into a game. Like that new tabletop RPG that’s come out - _Strategos Forces_." He stabbed another piece of broccoli and waved it in the air. "Saw some blokes playing it at the back table when I was working, took a peek on my break. Never saw so many pieces. And it had three different grids, so you could play on different levels - top level was for war planes, bottom one’s for subs and underground."

He finished off his broccoli and shook his head. "Gamers are _nuts_ , some of them. The rule book for that game is several inches thick, but most of them have it _memorised_. It’s completely insane."

"How much does the game cost?"

When Harry left that night, he had his own _Strategos Forces: Rising Ranks_ under one arm. He felt decidedly hopeful.

 

With some clever charm work from Hermione and some strategising with Ron, Harry was able to convert _Strategos Forces_ into their own magical version of the game, which they dubbed _Hogwarts: the RPG_.

The Aurors took to it immediately; it was, after all, a vast improvement over lectures and diagrams. The three-dimensional maps and animated pieces - charmed to freeze if they were a ‘casualty’ - made it easy to really _understand_ the manoeuvres.

When Harry set up tournaments with a ranking system and prizes for those who completed their ‘mission’ with least number of casualties across the board, the rulebook was suddenly in high demand.

Card packs and expansions were made as different scenarios were developed, covering angles Harry hadn’t thought of when he made the game with Ron and Hermione. Soon all the training rooms - and even a few of the senior Auror rooms - had their own _Hogwarts: the RPG_ game; usually with one or more working out defensive manoeuvres and strategic offense.

But it absolutely, really _truly_ began when one Auror took the game home to his family and let them play. The kids were thrilled with the novel toy and begged for their own copy to take to school.

Once again, Harry met with Ron and Hermione, and together they’d hammered out a new version. They incorporated house statistics, illustrated the cards, and removed some of the Auror-only Grey level spells.

A new box was designed, and within a month, _Hogwarts: the RPG_ was on the shelves and listed as the educational toy of the season.

When they got the request to produce a version Muggle-born students could play at home, Hermione swiftly agreed and _Hogwarts: the RPG (home edition)_ was released.

Harry knew it was somewhat popular, of course; still, he was completely unprepared when Dudley called and invited him over to the store. "The owner wants to hold a convention for Hogwarts gamers," he said bluntly. " _Everyone’s_ playing it. If I’d told them you were going to be here today, this place would be packed. And - " he looked nervous. "He’s promised to promote me to manager if I can get _you_ to promise to show at the convention."

"Dudley, I don’t do publicity - "

"I know you hate it and all. But you don’t have to speak or sign anything, right? Just _be_ there. I know I haven’t got the right to ask for anything, but - "

Harry sighed. "Just showing up? I don’t have to stay for the whole time?"

"Even just a couple minutes, so long as some people see you long enough to say you were there." Dudley looked relieved. "Does that mean you will?"

"I guess I can stand a couple minutes of hanging around if it means you get a better job."

Dudley grinned broadly. "I promise, you won’t regret it!"

 

Which explained why Harry was now standing in the entry to an enormous room, filled with small, separately staffed tables. Except for the large center booth where official paraphernalia was sold, each table were trying to hawk their own home-made merchandise. Everywhere he looked he saw the house banners extolling their official stats (Ravenclaws, +3 wisdom, +1 speed; Gryffindors, +4 strength; Hufflepuffs, +2 luck +2 charisma; Slytherins, +3 initiative, +1 agility).

Hard to believe it’d started as a training exercise for Aurors and become a gaming obsession almost overnight.

He blinked as he recognised a familiar face among the sea of bodies and flung himself into the crowd, employing elbow and shoulder judiciously. It felt vaguely reminiscent of Platform nine-and-three-quarters.

He was grinning and breathless when he finally found himself next to Neville, looking over some foil wrapped card packs. Once chubby, clumsy, and shy, the war had made him grow into his skin. He was nearly as tall as Ron now, round face chiseled down squarely with a strong, stubborn jaw. His light brown hair was streaked with blond from exposure to the sun and looked in need of a hair cut - the thick waves covered the tips of his ears and hung in his eyes. He looked surprisingly good - the haunted, pinched look many of them had just after the defeat of Voldemort had faded, too.

He knocked his shoulder into Neville’s, getting his attention. "Crazy, isn’t it?"

Neville started, then turned with a huge smile. "Harry! It’s been a while! Yeah, it’s everywhere, isn’t it? Rosmerta even saves a back table for players."

Harry glanced at the foil packs in Neville’s hands. "Looks like you’re one of the many rabid players, huh? What packs do you favour?"

"I like to use the standard ground force Auror Assault, with the Mean-and-Green expansion pack. People tend to underestimate how much of a deterrent the right kind of plants can be. You’d think people never paid attention in Herbology!"

"I probably wouldn’t have passed the class without you or Hermione," Harry admitted. "Though at least part of that had something to do with having a madman after me. But I have to ask - if you use primarily the ground Aurors and the plant pack, what do you do about aerial attacks?"

"I’d use a modified Venomous Firetrap - you know, the hybrid between a firevine and a flytrap," Neville said earnestly, picking up another foil pack and pointing it out to Harry. "The new Elements and Enhancements pack makes them unbeatable against brooms. Max out a Firetrap on speed, accuracy, and strength bonus cards, and they can spit an aerial attacker down. If the fire doesn’t ground the attacker, the fast-acting venom will."

"I don’t think I’ve seen anyone try that before," Harry said, impressed despite himself. "What about - say - dragons?"

"Not as fool-proof," Neville admitted. "Heat-activated firefoot alternated with Dragonsbane. The firefoot blooms set fire to the plants next to them if they sense heat, and the smoking Dragonsbane poisons the dragons, unless they roll a save. Even then, they’re still paralysed for three turns."

"Maybe I’ll have to have you come lecture the Aurors about green defenders," Harry joked.

"Nah, everyone knows the Boy-Who-Lived doesn’t stay around long enough for plants to grow," Neville fired back.

"Just ‘cause I teach my Aurors to get in, get out fast - " Harry began to protest good naturedly, but he was cut off by the girl behind the table.

"Boy-Who-Lived? Wait, you mean Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter? The creator of ‘ _Hogwarts: the RPG_ ’? The one who killed that dark wizard my parents were so afraid of when he was still a kid? _That_ Harry Potter, in the flesh?" Her rising voice drew the attention of those around them, who swarmed in.

"Good to know I’m known for more than _just_ offing some dark wizard," he grumbled quietly to Neville. Louder, he said, "Yes, here with my friend Neville - he used Gryffindor’s sword to kill an evil giant snake in front of a whole army of dark wizards!"

More voices raised and they were suddenly crowded in, people babbling.

"Harry Potter!" someone shouted, wild-eyed with fanatic adoration, "Which expansion pack do you feel lends the strongest advantage in a cross-campaign?"

"Er, well - " Harry began awkwardly, "I really think - "

"Mr Longbottom, will you autograph my Sword of Gryffindor card?"

"Don’t you think Grindylows make the best underwater defense?"

"Potter, is it true that you drew the first few cards yourself - "

"If I beat you in a campaign, will you sign my whole deck?"

Harry jumped when someone actually _pinched_ his _butt_. That did it, he was done with this crowd. He flashed a glance at Neville, who was pressed up beside him from the mob. "On the count of three," he murmured, keeping his lips as still as possible, "we go _under_ the table."

Neville nodded fractionally. "Thanks for your appreciation! Ten percent of the game profits go to charitable organisations. _Three!_ " And he flung himself under the table and past the legs of the startled girl, with Neville right behind him.

"Where to?" Neville grunted, as they sprinted to the nearest exit and out. It took them to a long hall, peppered with plain, non-descript doors.

"Here!" Harry grabbed a door and flung it open. To his dismay, it was a narrow broom-closet.

"We can’t both fit in there!"

Footsteps and voices neared the exit they’d left through. "No time, Nev, are you with me?" He inched in and stood back pressed against the wall.

After a second of indecision, Neville scurried in next to him and pulled the door shut, leaving them pressed face-to-face in the dark room. Just in time - footsteps and excited chatter poured past their hiding spot.

"Do something!" Neville whispered frantically. "If they find us here, we’ll be trapped for sure!"

Harry leaned forward and inched his wand out of his back pocket - the space was so tight he had to press against Neville - and whispered a quick locking and repelling charm, then as an afterthought a silencing ward so if they knocked over the mops it wouldn’t draw attention.

"We should be safe til they’re gone, now." He moved to replace his wand, but banged his elbow on the wall. "Shit! I I dropped it, just let me - "

Neville squeaked as Harry wiggled his way into a crouch. "Harry, I don’t think - " he said weakly.

"What’s wrong? Oh Merlin - don’t tell me you don’t like closed spaces! I’m sorry, I totally didn’t think!" Harry’s disembodied voice floated up from around Neville’s knees.

"No, the closet’s fine, just - ah!" Harry lost his balance as he tried to stand and found himself pressing against Neville’s solid chest.

And something else rather solid, about hip-height. With a startled shout, Harry jerked back. His head hit the wall hard enough to send lights dancing behind his eyes.

There was a long moment where they both breathed raggedly and the dark felt too heavy.

"Er....Harry, you _did_ know I like blokes, right?"

Harry winced at the hesitant, hurt tone. "I actually didn’t - hell, I barely have time to eat after I leave the Auror’s office. I’m so tired that I eat whatever I can get my hands on and crawl right into bed. I haven’t been to the pub in - in - well, I can’t remember. But it’s really ok - "

"I understand," Neville interrupted desperately. "Just - just don’t _move_ , ok? You’re - you’re brushing against me. Um. _There_."

Harry could almost feel the heat of Neville’s embarrassed blushing. Sighing, he tried again, "Neville, let me try to - "

"Don’t say anything. I won’t tell - "

"Neville - "

" - anyone, ok? I know you don’t swing that way, and - "

"Neville, _listen_ \- "

" - it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have followed you in - "

Harry gave up on trying to talk over him and resorted to desperate measures: he closed the scant distance between them to press his own growing erection against Neville’s.

"Finally!" he sighed, when Neville’s breath hitched and he fell abruptly silent. "Nev, let me ask you something - did you hear about my break up with Ginny?"

"Well, yes, but the general word around was that she wanted someone less famous, someone she could go on a date with without reporters crashing the party."

Harry rocked his hips experimentally, rewarded when Neville’s breath stuttered again, a hot puff of air against his face. "Ginny and I broke up because it wasn’t working."

"But you could have any girl you wanted - !" Neville sounded bewildered; he was standing so still it was painful to contemplate.

"I could," Harry agreed, rocking his hips again, trying to set a rhythmic press of cock against cock. "Except we broke up because I didn’t like girls as much as I like blokes. One night in a club was all I needed to learn that I liked - " _hips thrusting, sweaty skin sliding on sweaty skin, hard flat chests and friction, hard and hot and fast_ "-this."

He was thankful when Neville’s control broke and he was suddenly pushed against the wall and held there by Neville’s taller frame and a strong denim-clad thigh wedged between his legs. He was so close, so loomingly _there_ , that Harry could not only feel Nev’s racing heartbeat, he could _hear_ it.

"You’d better not be having me on, Harry," Neville breathed into his ear, breathless and thick. "If you knew how long I’ve wanted this - "

In answer, Harry groaned and rocked against Neville’s thigh, bringing his arms up in the enclosed space to grip the taller boy’s shoulders, remembering how broad and rounded they were, and now feeling the solid muscle his tee-shirt had only hinted at. "Does it _feel_ like I’m having you on?" he managed. He groaned again when Neville’s hands - large strong hands, hot even through the worn denim of his blue jeans - found and kneaded the firm globes of his arse.

"Shit, why didn’t - why didn’t you tell me?" Neville couldn’t stop moving, rubbing his hardness against Harry’s, breathing raggedly.

"I didn't know. I tried to go to a gay club once, but everyone just thought I was there as an Auror. No one could believe their precious Boy-Who-Lived could be a poof!" He tried, and failed, to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Fuck them!" Neville almost growled. "They don't matter. You don't owe them, Harry, and they owe you more than they can repay. Don't let them make you ashamed of who you are; they might stare and be right bastards for a bit, but anyone who really matters will support you, and they'll leave you alone after a while." He licked at Harry's neck, hating how tense the muscle there was. "Besides," he threw in offhandedly, "hiding in a closet isn't exactly conducive to sex. Ok for kissing and frotting maybe, but not shagging you blind."

Harry choked, fingers clenching on Neville's shoulders, pulling at the thin fabric of his shirt. "Oh Merlin - " he said faintly, "I've heard rumors - the 'Longbottom legacy' - but you always avoided showering when I was. Are you really as hung as they say?"

Neville stiffened. "I was afraid I would stare at you if we showered together," he admitted. "As for the - er - 'legacy' - I'm longer than Ron, thicker than Seamus. Is - is that going to be a problem?" He was thankful the dark hid his fierce blush, and thought for one horrible moment, _What if he doesn’t bottom? I don't think I could -_

But then Harry shuddered and Neville could feel the slighter boy's cock twitch through the layers of fabric between them. " _Fuck_ , no - not a problem at all - I hope you do so first chance you get. I've - I've thought about - "

Neville’s hips resumed their rolling _press-slide, press-slide_ motion, slowly moving faster. "Thought about what?" The noises Harry made were positively indecent, breathy gasps of pleasure. He could almost see the way Harry’s green eyes would flutter closed, lips parted -

"This - you - " For a moment there was a pause, filled with only the sounds of ragged breathing and movement. "I think about you fucking me," Harry blurted. The words were easier to say than he thought, but he buried his face against Neville’s neck and shoulder, muffling his next words. "When I wank at night I think about it....and I’ve tried fingering myself and - "

Neville could picture it vividly - Harry sprawled nude on his Gryffindor bed with the curtains drawn tight and spelled for silence. He’d be biting his lip, face flushed, one hand frantically pumping his cock. One knee would be pulled up for easier access, his other hand circling his crinkled entrance, then pushing inside, just enough to tease.

"Fuck, Harry," Neville groaned and came in his pants, still grinding against Harry. Another rolling thrust of his hips and he froze, breathing raggedly in Harry’s ear until his cock stopped pulsing.

Harry ground his teeth in frustration and redoubled his efforts to grind against Neville’s thigh. "Don’t you dare stop now, Neville - I haven’t - "

"You can’t blame me for coming too soon when you say those kinds of things - d’you have any idea what picturing that did to me?"

Despite his frustration, Harry couldn’t help grinning. "What, you mean me wanking? Or you mean me with my fingers up my arse? Or just me being naked?"

"How about all three?" Neville shifted out from between Harry’s legs and stepped back as much as the closet would allow, laughing quietly when he protested the loss of friction and contact. "No you don’t," he said firmly when Harry tried to press forward. "Don’t worry, it’ll be worth it - " His fingers stroked with appreciation over Harry’s torso, thumbs smoothing over erect nipples, then down over his stomach. He fumbled briefly with the fly of Harry’s jeans sharply.

Harry could hear several stitches give, but he didn’t care; now that he realised what Neville was after, he couldn’t get his jeans and pants down fast enough. With Neville’s help, they were shoved to his knees; he twisted and they fell to his ankles, and he stepped out of them.

To his surprise, Neville braced strong hands at his waist and lifted him. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he ordered, "arms around my neck." There was some banging of knees and elbows as Harry obeyed.

"Nev, as much as I like being close to you like this, it’s not the best for rubbing off - "

"That’s because you’re not going to be doing the rubbing." His hand, large and calloused and warm, wrapped around Harry’s aching erection. "You feel so good in my hand," Neville whispered. "Just like I imagined - " He firmed his grip and stroked upwards, adding a twist over the head, and was rewarded when Harry’s legs tightened around him.

"Good," Harry said, " _more_. Faster - "

Neville slowly sped his hand up, savouring the way Harry’s breath hitched when he squeezed on an upstroke, the way his legs jerked when Neville’s thumb grazed over his slit and smeared precum.

"Neville - I need something _in_ me - your fingers - " Harry gasped and tried to buck into Neville’s hand, legs tight around Neville’s waist.

"Merlin, Harry, if I hadn’t already come I’d come just from hearing you say that!" Neville groaned, putting his free hand to his mouth and sucking his fingers, laving a long square finger until it was wet with saliva.

Harry startled when Neville slipped his wet fingers down the cleft of his arse and rubbed over the crinkled entrance; his cock jumped in Neville’s hand when Neville pressed against the guardian ring until his finger penetrated. He tightened his arms around Neville’s neck and buried his face into his shoulder. " _Fuck_ ," he said shakily, "it’s _better_ when it’s you - "

"Just - wait - til it’s my cock - in your - arse," Neville said breathlessly, hand flying on Harry’s cock while he searched with his finger, looking for that spot, crooking his finger like so -

Stars flared behind Harry’s eyes. "Fuck, Nev - " he gasped, "I’m going to, I’m going to come - "

And then he _was_ , and he turned his head and bit into the solid muscle of Neville’s shoulder to muffle his scream as he spilled into Neville’s hand.

Neville held him until his breathing slowed, finger slowly thrusting into him. After a moment he pulled his finger free, smiling a little when Harry audibly whimpered at loss. "Alright?"

Harry inhaled shakily. "More than alright - that was brilliant. So much more than a solitary wank and a fantasy." He laughed a little and leaned against the wall. "You know, most people get their ‘snogging in broom closets’ phase out of the way while at Hogwarts."

Neville shrugged out of his shirt and wiped his hand on it, then pulled Harry to lean against him. "Nothing’s ever normal with you, Harry," he said lightly, to cover his sudden nervousness. "So, ah - good enough to do again?"

"No," said Harry firmly, and Neville’s breath _whooshed_ out of him. "Next time, we’re doing it on a _bed_ , and you’re going to fuck me properly."

And Neville could suddenly breathe again.

"Yeah," he said, "I think I can do that. My place?"

"Right now?" Harry fumbled frantically, and came up with jeans and pants in one hand, his wand in another. "Meet you there in ten? I’ll grab a change of clothes."

"Wait - " Neville pulled him in and kissed him, savouring the smell and taste that was uniquely Harry’s in all the world. He pulled away after a long moment. " _Now_ we can say we snogged in the broom closet," he said with satisfaction. "Let’s go."

A second later, two loud _cracks_ of Disapparition echoed through the tiny dark closet, leaving it empty.

 

_Dudley -_

_Hope you got your promotion, but even if you didn't, it was worth it. Do you mind if I bring a friend with me next time we meet?_

_I owe you one,_

_Harry_

**Author's Note:**

> One of many fics written in an exchange that was never commented on by the recipient.


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